


Undercover

by tinycrown



Series: Wranduin Week 2020 [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Wranduin Week 2020, anduin forgot about glamour charms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: “We are going to have words when we get home, I swear it.”
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Wranduin Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914304
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Undercover

Wrathion had known about the existence of ‘Jerek’ before Anduin had gathered enough courage to tell him. 

It had begun on a dark, rainy night. He’d gone from the war room, conversing with Shaw and how their spies could collaborate on missions, then to his love’s office- only to find him missing. Worried, he consulted with his guards- even braving Greymane’s wrath after the old wolf discovered too that Anduin was gone. Genn had no idea where he could be, and had nearly send a platoon to track him- stopped only by Wrathion’s promise to find him. He’d neglected to check their chambers, but somehow Wrathion knew he wasn’t going to be there. 

He’d then turned his sights to the city, something strange in his gut calling him there. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he figured it had to do with Anduin’s location. Fear pulled at him- what if he was in  _ danger?  _

There would be more evidence of infiltration or a fight in the Keep, and knowing that Valeera was the  _ only _ one to ever successfully infiltrate it without alerting the guards, that theory seemed to be off the table. 

Wrathion had stalked the dark streets of Stormwind for hours until he forced himself to a stop outside of a busy inn, eyes narrowing. He’d perused all of the inns in the city with no sight of his lover’s face, but this was one he hadn’t gotten to yet. The Pig and Whistle Tavern, nestled into the corner of Old Town’s darkened neighborhood. It’s alleyways were intimidating, shady folk always hanging around. Though they usually stuck to the canals, there were always troublemakers lingering. Wrathion wouldn’t oppose dealing with them, as he could do so easily, but the thought troubled him. 

He entered the inn with eyes grazing his figure, straightening his back. It hadn’t gone silent, no, it was incredibly loud. The smell of beer and fried food was incredibly pungent to his sensitive nose. It wrinkled distastefully at the sight of drunken slobs and flirtatious bar attendees. It was quite  _ seedy _ at night, wasn’t it? 

Wrathion scanned the crowd with his shoulders squared, hoping to garner enough intimidation so that he would be left to his search and not interrupted by sloshed mules looking for a way to impress their equally hammered friends. 

Familiar blue eyes caught his gaze, the same beautiful shining ocean that he stared into on nights where they were both stolen from sleep, curled against him. Though his hair wasn’t blonde, and he wasn’t clad in royal regalia, Wrathion knew. 

He could pick out Anduin in any crowd with his eyes being the only visible part of him. 

Wrathion watched him practically jump away from the bar, slapping a few gold pieces onto the varnished wood and slipping out of view. He figured that he was going outside- maybe through another exit that wasn’t in his direct line of sight. He backtracked until he was back out into the cool air. Anduin had been on the left side of the building, so he ventured to the alleyway on that side. The minute he rounded the corner, a brown-haired, hooded beauty with Anduin’s familiar face bumped straight into his chest. He stumbled away, suddenly looking fearful. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked frantically, closing his ragged brown cloak tight around himself. 

“Searching for  _ you,”  _ Wrathion folded his arms across his chest, cocking a brow. “What are you doing here, looking like a stable hand?” 

“What do you think? I’m just trying to get away.” His shoulders hunched, suddenly looking very tired. Wrathion faltered, his arms falling away as he groaned. 

“You could have told me! Then I would have left you alone-”

“You’re right,” Anduin sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have told you. Just.. don’t tell any of the others, okay?” He stepped closer, reaching out of his cloak to take Wrathion’s hand and squeeze fondly. 

“If you wanted a break from me, all you had to do was ask.” The dragon chuckled, kissing his forehead. Anduin frowned. 

“I-It wasn’t from you… just, everything. All of it,” he exhaled shakily, “sometimes I just want to get drunk and cry,” his laugh was hollow, “but I can’t do that at the Keep. There’s hardly any privacy. And before you ask, _ no, _ it’s nothing you can fix.” Wrathion pressed his lips together, pulling him close. Anduin was right to address his insatiable need to fix everything, but it didn’t quell the feeling of agitation rising within him nagging at the fact that he  _ couldn’t do anything to make it better.  _

Anduin continued to reassure himself, and even  _ Wrathion,  _ that he wasn’t worth the energy. It was starting to anger him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s only been a few times, but… I still should have. It’s not fair to make you worry,” Anduin reached up and cupped his cheek, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. “Can you forgive me?” 

Wrathion chortled, tucking a strand of-  _ oily-  _ brown hair behind his ear. 

“We’ll call it even, for all of the heart attacks and worry-fits I gave you when we were young.” That earned an airy giggle and a nod of agreement. 

“Fair enough. I suppose I deserved some vengeance.” 

“Yes, you did… But, Anduin..?” 

“What is it?” 

“If you need to talk, you know that I am here. Don’t forget,” he kissed him softly, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he leaned forward and hugged him, tucking his head under his chin. “Also, when I’m out like this, call me Jerek.” 

“... Jerek.” Wrathion deadpanned, interlacing his hands around his lower back as ‘Jerek’ chuckled against his shoulder. 

“I rubbed boot polish in my hair to make it look like this, too.” 

“...  _ Boot polish?!  _ Wh-  _ Glamour Charms  _ exist!” 

“And I stole this cloak from the stables.” He whispered. Wrathion wrinkled his nose. He had been wondering why he smelled like horses and straw, but thought it best not to ask.  _ That _ however, was a suitable answer. 

“We are going to have words when we get home, I swear it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaahahaha bruh anduin u so dumb wtf LOL
> 
> also kinda sad  
> boyo's a bit depressed   
> note that im running with the 'anduin slowly turning into an alcoholic so he has an excuse to cry' theme.


End file.
